Revelations
by Blitzk
Summary: Pre-Hunger Games. Paylor is the daughter of District Eight's mayor and loves the Capitol. What happens when she becomes a Gamemaker and her best friend is reaped? Will she betray the Capitol and help her friend? Or will she betray her friend and remain loyal to the Capitol? Will the views and opinions she's held for most of her life be completely flipped? Read and find out...
1. Prologue

**A/N: I should really either be studying for finals or updating my other story, but…I got this idea and I needed to follow up on it. I actually came up with the idea in the other story I'm in the process of writing but I don't get into it nearly as deeply as I will in this one. In my other story, it's just briefly mentioned. I also decided that it'd be cool to do a story about Paylor. Hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think!**

Most people living in District Eight hated it. And I guess I could see where they were coming from. A majority of the population was poor, the working conditions at some of the factories were horrible, and some people had to work over twelve hours a day. But I didn't really have anything to complain about. My dad, Arthur Paylor, was the mayor of District Eight, and we lived rather comfortably. I never saw District Eight as an evil place like some others did, including my best friend Mallory.

Mallory hated living in District Eight, she hated the Capitol, and she hated everything that the Capitol stood far. I didn't really like getting into these arguments with her though. I was on pretty good terms with the Capitol, seeing as my dad was the mayor and everything. I was friends with a lot of the Peacekeepers too. Mallory would get upset every time we'd talk about the Peacekeepers though because I was simply "blind to the injustices occurring all around".

Back then, I wasn't sure what the big deal was. Sure, conditions were rough for some people. But it couldn't have been that bad. My dad would always tell me about the war and how the Capitol had unified the people. I didn't get why Mallory would hate a government that was keeping us together and alive. I didn't understand how people could hate the Capitol.

Mallory's biggest arguing point was the Hunger Games. She said that it was the only justification she needed to hate the Capitol (not that there weren't others). But my dad had always talked to me when I was a kid about why the Hunger Games were necessary. It unified the people, it discouraged extremist sects from inciting rebellion, and it gave us entertainment. And as my dad explained, we pretty much deserved it. And I believed every word my dad had said. Even when I was nineteen, I still believed him.

Mallory nearly slapped me when I told her I wanted a government job. And once again, I didn't understand why she was angry. I was eventually going to become mayor when my dad died, so what was the problem with getting a head start in the government sector? Mallory explained that it wasn't the fact that I was getting a job in government that bothered her; it was the government I was getting a job with. Even after I explained that there weren't any local government jobs available, only ones in the Capitol, she remained adamant.

It probably sounds like Mallory and I didn't have a very great friendship, which would be false. Mallory and I had known each other since I was four and she was three (she was one year younger than me). We did everything together. We were practically sisters.

We didn't look like sisters though. I had dark brown eyes, straight dark brown hair that fell past my shoulders, a long face, and was 5'9. Mallory had wavy blonde hair that touched her shoulders, green eyes, and was only 5'7.

Anyways, my father called me from my room one evening to tell me that the Capitol had a vacancy and that I was going to be offered the job. Not even knowing what the job was, I became ecstatic.

Unfortunately, one week later, given certain circumstances and a description of my job, ecstatic would be the last word I used to describe my predicament.

**A/N:** **This was really more of a background chapter, and you can probably learn more about the overall plot of the story from the summary. But regardless, I wanted to get this posted and I think the background was necessary to establish Paylor's POV at the time. Please let me know what you think of the story! Do you like the concept? Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Security Keys

**A/N: For storytelling purposes, this will switch to first-person POV. This chapter is a bit more exposition, but it's completely necessary. I don't have a strict outline for this story, so I'm not sure how quickly this story will develop. But it shouldn't be **_**too**_** long.**

Mallory doesn't say anything when I show her the paper. "Come on Mallory, I know you don't like the Capitol. But you have to admit, this is pretty cool!" My words don't seem to register with her at first but eventually she looks up. "I'm happy for you, I guess…" she manages.

Despite the less than enthusiastic tone she used, I pulled her into a hug. "I knew you'd be happy for me!" I shout. She smiles a little, "What are best friends for?"

I release her shorter frame and she takes a step back. "This doesn't mean I'm suddenly okay with the Capitol," she insists, "I'm just happy you got a job that you like. _Even the job is for something that's completely evil._" She adds the last part under her breath.

I smile widely at her, partly from my own excitement and partly because I have Mallory's approval. "What exactly are you going to be doing anyway?" Mallory asks, pointing to the paper I still held in my hand, "That thing doesn't have a job description on it; it just says that you've managed to get one."

"Who knows," I reply, brushing the question aside, "But I got a government job!" My excitement is clouding my judgment and Mallory raises an eyebrow, skepticism displayed across her face. "Yeah, but what if it's something like a janitorial position? Would you feel so special then?" My smile drops off of my face completely and I quickly scan the paper again looking for any sign that my new job might somehow be as Mallory's prediction.

"They wouldn't do that, would they?" I ask, more to myself than to Mallory. But I brush the thought aside as I see the fancy Capitol seal at the bottom of the paper. "Of course they wouldn't!" I reassure myself, "This paper's to fancy to be given to a janitor! My position's probably at least a little more important than that! Besides, they have Avoxes for that kind of stuff!"

"Av-what's?" Mallory asks, confused. I'm pretty sure I've told her about them before, but there's a lot to see in the Capitol and I might've forgotten about them when relaying details from my few trips there to her. "Avoxes," I repeat, "Have I not told you about Avoxes?"

She shakes her head, so I explain to her what Avoxes are and what they do. Mallory's face contorts in disgust. "That's awful!" she shouts when I'm finished, "They cut out their tongues!"

"Hey, they deserve it," I defend. "How could anyone deserve having their tongues get cut out and being thrown into slavery?" she asks, stupefied, "And I thought the Capitol was horrible before I knew about this!"

"The Capitol is what keeps us united! Without them, we'd all suffer!" I counter, "And if those people hadn't been inciting strife that hurt the Capitol, I'm sure they could still be leading happy normal lives!" Mallory sighs in frustration and rolls her eyes.

We got into little arguments like these all the time, but we'd usually stop and move on once each one of had said our piece. But Mallory seems a little more frustrated than usual.

"What exactly do you mean by normal?" she asks coldly.

I struggle to think of a good answer and before I can come up with one Mallory changes the subject. "So when will you find out what exactly it is you'll be doing?" she asks, regarding my new job.

"I don't know," I reply, shrugging my shoulders, "I asked my dad's Capitol secretary, but she was incredibly vague. I believe her exact words were: 'you'll when they tell you!'" Mallory laughs as I do a bad imitation of my dad's secretary's voice.

My dad is the mayor of District Eight, and he has two secretaries: one to regulate business from within the district, and one to regulate business from outside the district. The secretary in charge of business within the district is a sweet old lady named Barbra. She's seventy and has wavy gray hair that when let down will fall to the bottom of her neck. She usually keeps it up in a loose bun, though. She's about my height and is relatively slim. She's been the secretary nearly fifty years.

The other secretary comes from the Capitol. Her name is Brilla and she's a rather bitter young woman. I usually like most people that I meet and even I can't stand her most times. She seems dissatisfied that she's been assigned to a secretary post out in district and makes her frustration and bitterness pretty frank. She has golden skin and turquoise hair that she claims is the "hippest hair in Panem." Mallory and I both think it just looks plain silly. On the left side of head, her hair is weaved into cornrows. Along the center of her head, her hair sits in tight curls. And on the right side of her head, her hair is spiked upward dramatically. It creates a really puzzling look where each section of her hair is slightly higher than the other. She wears incredibly strange clothing and speaks with a horribly shrill voice, too.

That seemed to be the one thing that Mallory and I agree upon when it comes to the Capitol. They dress like idiots. But while I believe think that it adds an air of luxury and awe to the place, Mallory thinks that the way they dress simply reinforces the idea that they're all crazy.

"Do you want to come over to my house and watch Brilla argue with some Peacekeepers?" I ask her. "How do you know that they'll be arguing when we get there?" she asks in response. "If they aren't already, they will be," I say with a devilish smirk. Mallory understands what I'm getting and she follows me to my house.

Mallory and I usually go to my house when we hang out. It's at the center of the district, which is convenient, and it's the mayor's house, which means it's pretty nice. Mallory's house is standard for houses in District Eight, and she'll sometimes complain about the living or working conditions in our district. I usually just ignore her though. If that's the price some people have to pay so they we can maintain political unity and stability, I'll take it.

We get to the large complex that doubles as an office and my house and I use my security card to open the door before putting the key back in my pocket. The Capitol had decided that some districts needed extra security for their government buildings after a small riot in District Eleven. District Eleven, District Seven, and my district were the ones that were singled out as one's requiring security. I've never been really sure why we needed it, and my dad had tried to explain it to me. Something about the location of the building and the factories and that in a worst case scenario, yadda, yadda, yadda…I didn't care _that_ much.

But every Peacekeeper, government worker, and office resident (that's me!) has to carry around a small little white card to access the building. Keys are specialized for each person too, so someone like me can't just randomly get into the Peacekeeper armory. But carrying around the cards everywhere is annoying and not everybody likes taking the risk of losing their card. So what people started doing was just leaving the front door open in the morning so people could get in. They'll leave the cards in a special holder by the door when they leave and when they came back the next morning, they just grab their card and use it to access whatever they need to access for the day.

Of course, this system relies heavily on trust and honesty and there have been a few cases in the past where people would arrive in the morning and accidentally grab the wrong card. Fortunately, these incidents had been resolved but not without plenty of frustration and agitation.

"Andrea, what are you planning?" Mallory asks, suspicious when she sees the mischievous look on my face. At the end of the main hallway are the doors to my dad's office; and in front of those doors are two desks belonging to Barbra and Brilla. Brilla must be on a coffee break or something because her desk is vacated. Barbra is typing something up on her computer.

Mallory ducks into another hallway as I calmly walk towards the two desks. I spot Brilla's white card sitting on her desk and my mischievous smile widens, but I force myself to neuter my expression a bit so I don't look suspicious.

"Hey Barbra, is my dad here?" I ask, leaning on Brilla's desk. "Why yes he is," she says, looking up at me but continuing to move her fingers, "You can go in and see him if you'd like, he doesn't have any appointments or meetings today."

As Barbra talks, I deftly move my hand until it's landed on Brilla's card. "Oh, no, I don't need to see him. I was just curious as to where he was," I reply. As I leave, I quickly scoop up Brilla's card and stuff both hands into my pockets. Barbra shoots me an odd glance, and at first I think I'm caught.

I smile brightly at her, trying to waiver off suspicion and it seems to work. She turns her attention back to the keyboard.

When I get back to Mallory, she breathes a sigh of relief. "I thought she caught you for a second," she says. "I think she might have," I say, "But if she did she doesn't care. She hates Brilla about as much as we do, maybe even more. "

"I'm beginning to regret this," Mallory says, "Maybe you should just put that back before you get in trouble."

"And miss out on the chance to see Brilla angry? Not a chance."

"But there could be consequences! Don't you ever think things through?" She's slightly frustrated.

"Nope,"

Mallory sighs heavily but follows me anyway when I begin walking down the hallway. My lack of thinking was one thing that Mallory thought I could improve on. I've always been the impulsive one. I like to have fun and experience adrenaline. Sometimes my actions get me into trouble but it's usually nothing too bad. Mallory's the level-headed one. She keeps me grounded, and it's one of the reasons why we're such a good match. Mallory always manages to keep cool and always thinks things over before acting. She's gotten me out of plenty sticky situations in the past. She always says I should try thinking a little more, but as of now I still haven't listened.

"Hey, Liam!" I call out to the Peacekeeper in charge of guarding the residential side of the building. "Good afternoon Miss Paylor," he says formally. "Cut that out, Liam," I snap at his formality, "I thought we were on a first name basis."

Liam is the youngest Peacekeeper in our district at the age of 20. He's a few inches taller than me and has short sandy brown hair. He's pretty built and would probably be good looking out of his Peacekeeper uniform. No one looks good in that.

"Stricter regulations," said Liam, with a stern look on his face. "But I guess since no one else is around I can ease up a bit," he chuckles, his face relaxing. He had just been kidding around with the formality. "I heard you got a job with the Capitol! Congratulations!" he says, hugging me. I hug back, beaming.

"And how are you this fine day, Mallory?" asks Liam. "I'm fine," she replies, "You?"

"Can't complain," he says.

"Do you have any idea where Crocket is?" I ask. "Crocket? Why would you want to spend time with him?" asks Liam with a smirk, "Especially when you could be spending time with me."

I roll my eyes and pull Brilla's card out of my pocket. "See this," I say, "It's Brilla's. We're going to switch it with Crocket's."

Liam's eyes lit up. "Sounds like it could be good for a few laughs later, he's in that room down the hall," Liam points down the hall and Mallory and I begin to walk towards it. "Thanks Liam!" I call back. "Don't mention it!" he shouts in reply.

Mallory and I creep up to the room Liam directed us too and I cautiously peek inside. Crocket and two other Peacekeepers are intently watching a television screen in the corner of the room. I recognize the other two Peacekeepers as Dillon and Alistair. Dillon was a pretty cool guy, but Alistair was always stern. He took the regulations and formalities way too seriously. If I didn't already have a target in mind, I might've decided to swap Brilla's card with Alistair's.

But Crocket is a much better target. Crocket is probably the grouchiest, strictest man on the planet. While I dislike Alistair because he's boring, I dislike Crocket because he's mean. And I dislike Crocket a lot more than Alistair.

Their faces transfixed on the screen in front of them, I quickly scan the room. My eyes fell on a small desk where all three of their keys lay. _This is too easy_. Since Crocket is the Chief Peacekeeper in our district, his key is marked with a golden stripe. Quietly, I slipped into the room and nabbed Crocket's key, replacing it with the one in my pocket.

When I slipped back out, Mallory quietly closed the door behind me. Running back to the main hallway, I give Crocket's key to Mallory and tell her what she has to do. She's reluctant, but she agrees. Fortunately, Brilla's still on a break, so her job isn't too hard.

I crouch behind the corner and wait.

"Hey Barbra," I hear Mallory say nervously, "Did Andrea stop by here earlier?"

"Why yes she did," I can barely hear Barbra's response, "She asked if her dad was here and then went around that corner."

"Oh, okay, thank you!" says Mallory. I hear footsteps and eventually Mallory appears around the corner. I look up at her expectantly.

"I did it," she says rather proudly. She seems to catch the tone she uses and continues, "But I didn't enjoy it!"

I roll my eyes at her and pull her with me down the hallway. I pull her into a storage closet across from the room Crocket's in, Liam giving us a weird look as we brush pass him.

"And now we wait," I say.

And we don't have to wait long.

"That incompetent grunt!" we can both hear Brilla yell across the building.

"Can I help you, miss?" we hear Liam ask. This is followed by a loud _smack_ and an "Ow!" from Liam.

"She just smacked him!" Mallory gasps in disbelief. I'm already chuckling and a smile is beginning to form on Mallory's face as she realize what kind of fireworks are in store when she finally confronts Crocket.

"Crocket!" Brilla yells, bursting into the room across from us. We can't see much of what's going on, but the sound of things, Brilla and Crocket are in an all-out screaming match. Mallory and I are both dying with laughter at the sound of Crocket's gruff voice going up against the shrillness of Brilla's.

They're both just screaming insults at each other, blaming each other for the confusion. But after a few minutes, the argument ends with Brilla smacking Crocket across the face before exiting the room with a huff. Crocket slams the door closed once she's left.

Mallory and I emerge from our hiding spot chuckling, and we see Liam chuckling a little too.

"At first, I was angry at you two when she slapped me because I knew you caused that," he explains. "But then _that_ happened," says Liam, referring to the shouting match, "And now you two are both forgiven."

I'm still chuckling. "Were you laughing when she came out?" I ask.

"Yeah," replies Liam, "She shot me daggers, but at least she didn't slap me." He puts a hand on his cheek for dramatic effect.

We all calm down, and Mallory and I both head to my room. "I'll admit, that was pretty funny," says Mallory, "But you're just lucky that nothing went wrong."

I roll my eyes at her, "Were you expecting me to mess up?"

"Yeah," she admits as we reach my door. I reach into my pocket to grab my key.

"Well, I didn't so HA!" I say, sticking my tongue out at her. I get the key out of my pocket and put it in the door, but for some reason, it doesn't open.

"Uh oh," I say.

"What?" asks Mallory.

"I switched the wrong key. This one is Brilla's."

**A/N: Please review!**


	3. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**A/N: Two chapters in two days! I'm proud of myself! **

**Thanks to Zoey-DeThug and LoveDrunkPunky for reviewing!**

Why is Mallory always right about everything? It didn't take Brilla very long to figure out that she didn't have the right key, and she been angrily storming through the building liking for the culprit who had her key. And of course, she had to come around just in time to see me try to get into my room. Long story short, I'd gotten in trouble.

Apparently, messing with the security cards was serious business. So, despite the fact that I'm nineteen, I got grounded. But, my dad had made the mistake of assigning Liam to make sure I didn't go anywhere.

If I didn't have Mallory, Liam would probably be my best friend. He's almost exactly like me; he might as well be my brother. Mallory always jokes that Liam and I should hook up, but she's just kidding and we all know that that will never happen.

It's one of those relationships where everybody on the outside thinks we would be great together. But anyone who knows both of us well enough knows that it will never happen. It'd be awkward. Liam and I are just really great friends.

But while Liam shares my sense of humor and my adventurous spirit, his training as a Peacekeeper has gotten him to control his impulsiveness. To me, Liam's lack of impulsiveness can be incredibly annoying, but Mallory says it a trait she wishes would rub off on me.

"So, I hear you're anxiously awaiting a letter from the Capitol informing you of your job?" asks Liam with a smirk as he approaches me, clearly hiding something behind his back.

"The letter came!" I scream excitedly.

"Nope!" Liam laughs at the disappoint that spreads across my face.

"Well, what's that then?" I ask, referencing whatever he's holding behind his back.

"I have no idea what your job is going to be, but I have a few ideas," he says, revealing a manila file. Opening it, he lays out five different pieces of paper.

"I did a little research, and I found that these five Capitol positions have vacancies to fill," Liam says.

I look at him giddily, "So what are they!"

"This one," Liam points to the paper in the middle, "Is an opening for a janitor."

"Liam!" I yell angrily. "Kidding, kidding," he quickly defends after seeing the look on my face, "It's actually an opening as a secretary. You could be ranked higher than Brilla."

We both laugh at that thought, though I realize that that option is probably unlikely. "This one," Liam continues, "Is an opening for a public events organizer."

I briefly consider the idea of being a public events organizer, and it sounds like a lot of work. I'm not sure how much I'd enjoy that job.

Liam continued, "This one is an opening for a job as a personal assistant to President Snow."

I'm not sure how I feel about that one either.

"Ooooh, this one's interesting," Liam says as he looks down at the fourth piece of paper.

"What is it?" I ask.

"If you got this job, you'd help keep the Senate functioning," Liam explains, "You'd help count the votes and even announce the results. You'd also help keep track of corruption in the Capitol and help catch people cheating the political system."

"That one sounds cool!" I exclaim, "I want that one!"

"Don't you want to hear the other one?" Liam asks.

"Fine, what's the other one?"

Liam frowns when he looks at the last paper, "Gamemaker."

"I don't want that one."

Liam and I both hear the sound of someone opening the door to the room and Liam quickly scoops up all the papers and puts them back into the manila file. The door opens, and it's my dad.

"Andrea, I hope you realize that what you did was wrong," he lectures.

"Yes daddy," I groan.

"And I hope that you don't do anything like that when you're in the Capitol. The consequences would be much greater if you did something like that over there." He seems uneasy and stressed, like something else is on his mind. He's probably dealing with something more important, and dealing with me is just something he's trying to hurry up and get finished.

"I understand."

"Thank you for watching her Liam," he says, nodding at Liam, not noticing the file he's carrying, "You're dismissed."

"Yes sir," says Liam, saluting my father quickly before leaving the room.

"You're free to go Andrea, just don't do anything like that again."

"Okay."

"He's right," says Mallory, as we walk the town square, "You can't do that sort of stuff in the Capitol. They could turn you into an Avox." I laugh at her last remark but she doesn't seem amused. "I'm serious Andrea, they're going to be a lot stricter over there and I don't want anything bad happening to you."

I'd told Mallory about everything that had happened, the different available jobs and my dad's brief lecture.

"They won't turn me into an Avox," I assure her.

"I don't know," she says jokingly, "There have been several times where _I've_ considered cutting out your tongue."

"Mallory!" someone nearby screams.

We both turn to see a short blonde girl running towards us. It's Mallory's younger sister Millie. She's twelve, has blonde hair that's the exact same shade as Mallory's, and has emerald eyes. Unlike Mallory, her hair is straight most of the time, and right now she has it back in a ponytail.

"Hey Millie!" says Mallory enthusiastically, scooping Millie up into her arms when she reaches us, "How's it going?"

"Good," says Millie, "Can you put me down?"

"Sure things, kiddo," says Mallory, putting her sister back down on the ground, "Why aren't you in school?"

"The front end of the building collapsed!" screams Mallory excitedly, "Mrs. Bennett said we probably won't have school for another few weeks!"

Mallory and I are both stunned by Millie's excitement at the collapse of a building. "Is anybody hurt?" Mallory asks urgently.

"No," Millie shakes her head, "Why would I be excited about someone getting hurt. That would be awful!"

"Well, getting excited about the destruction of public property isn't exactly a good thing either," I counter.

Millie sticks her tongue out at me, "You're just jealous because you never got a few weeks off of school."

Millie turns to see some of her friends on the other side of the town square before turning back to us and saying, "Bye you two! I'm going to go be with my friends!" And then she took off running to catch up with her friends.

Mallory and I both chuckle as she runs away. "I've never seen someone so giddy about the destruction of a building before," I comment.

"She just doesn't understand the implications of it. She's only twelve, and she's nowhere near as smart as we were when we were twelve," Mallory says.

"Did you just insult your little sister?" I laugh.

"It's true," Mallory shrugs, "She's still really innocent. She needs to start growing up a little more. She's pretty immature for her age."

"You can't force her to grow up," I tell her.

"I know," Mallory sighs, "But hopefully she starts maturing soon."

"How does she handle the Hunger Games?" I ask.

"Not well," Mallory replies, "She avoids watching whenever possible. She'll be a nervous wreck in a few days."

"What's in a few days?" I ask.

Mallory gives me a confused look, "You don't know? Oh! That's right, you turned nineteen recently, it's not important to you anymore. The reaping's in a few days."

That's right! How could I forget that? I turned nineteen two weeks ago, but Mallory didn't turn nineteen until a few weeks after the Hunger Games.

"And it's your _last_ reaping!" I say excitedly, "After this year, you won't have to worry about being thrown into an arena with bloodthirsty Careers!"

"Yeah, but Millie will," Mallory says, "And that'll be worse. Six years of watching reaping's, fearing for her life, knowing that I can't help her if she gets picked…"

"She'll be fine," I assure Mallory, "As long as she doesn't sign up for tesserae, her name will only be in the bowl once out of around 100,000."

"100,000?" Mallory asks. "Yeah," I respond, "You'd be surprised by how many pieces of paper are in that bowl each year."

Mallory smiles lightly, feeling a little better. "I don't see how you can defend the Capitol when it comes to the Hunger Games," Mallory remarks. I sigh, _not this again_.

"I don't completely agree with the method," I explain, "But they need to do something to make sure people remember the war and keep the districts on a leash."

"But killing 23 _kids_ every year?" Mallory asks. I sigh again, "Yeah, it is kind of harsh…"

"I hope you don't become a Gamekeeper," Mallory says.

"Me too."

Three days later, and it is time for the Reaping.

I stay with Mallory and Millie in the few hours before the reaping to help them get ready. Mallory and I had helped each other prepare for the reaping since her first year when I was thirteen, and it was a tradition we are going to continue with Millie.

Mallory has her hair in loose curls and is wearing a lovely purple dress. Mallory only curls her hair on special occasions, because despite the fact that she hates having her hair curled, she looks amazing when she does.

We both spend an hour trying to curl Millie's hair, but her hair is incredibly stubborn and resistant to our efforts. So instead, we leave it the way it was. Millie puts on a nice green dress that was the same shade as her eyes.

Millie wants to put her hair back in a ponytail, but Mallory and I think she should leave it down. She seemingly complies, but as soon as we turn our backs her hair is back up. Mallory and I both give up and allow Millie to do whatever she wants with her hair.

While Mallory and Millie both sign in, I find Liam, who's chatting with Dillon.

"Hey Andrea," says Dillon when I approach the two. Liam has his back facing me, but he turns around when he hears Dillon. "Oh, hey!" says Liam, "Shouldn't you be other…"

"I turned nineteen two weeks ago," I remind him.

"That's right!" says Liam. I playfully hit him upside the head.

"So where's Mallory then? Aren't you two the same age?" he asks me. Does he not remember anything? Liam can be pretty stupid sometimes. I hit him upside the head again. "She's still eighteen," I explain, "She doesn't turn nineteen for another month or so."

"Oh, right, I knew that," says Liam. I just roll my eyes. Dillon chuckles a bit at Liam. "Geez dude, even I knew that Andrea was nineteen," Dillon laughs. "Shut up," Liam shoots Dillon daggers. Dillon holds his hands up in front of him in defense, "Okay, calm down dude."

I smile at the two of them. Dillon turns to me, "You've got to get going soon. You can't stand with us. Everyone's signed in and the video's going to start playing soon."

I nod and wave goodbye to the two of them before finding my dad in the crowd. I go over and stand next to him. He doesn't notice me though; he's busy talking with Barbra about the clean-up process when the reaping's over. But as the Capitol video starts, Barbra scoots away and my dad turns to watch the screen, smiling brightly.

When the video finishes, Valencia O'Mara takes the stage. She's a bright, chirpy woman with an obsession with the color yellow. Her skin is as white as an eggshell, but every other part of her is yellow. Her lipstick is yellow, her nails are yellow, and the outrageous dress she wears is yellow. But her hair, strangely enough, is actually a gold color despite the fact that she's a natural blonde. Her hair reaches her shoulders and is tightly curled; bobbing up and down with every step she takes.

"Welcome!" she screams into the microphone, causing half of the people in the audience to cover their ears, "Today, we are here, to select tributes, for the 63rd, Annual, Hunger Games!"

She speaks so that every second or third word is separated by a space. To this day, I still find it terribly annoying.

"Well without, any further ado, let's find out, who our Tributes, are!"

I asked my dad about why she talks like that, but he didn't have a good answer. Brilla had overheard us, and she told me that she suffered from a speech impediment she got when she was a kid.

"Ladies, first,"

She does this weird thing when she's not talking too. She swishes her tongue around in her mouth, as if it's bother her for some reason. When she talks, she'll swish her tongue in the breaks too. It's like her tongue won't allow her to say more than a few words at a time without having to be swished.

Valencia walks slowly over to the girl's bowl, her yellow heels clicking loudly with each step. She slowly reaches into the bowl and grabs a piece of paper in between her yellow nails.

She slowly opens the folded piece of paper and reads the name…

"Mallory Shoals!"

My breathing stops and I nearly faint. Piercing screams split the air and I don't have to look through the audience to tell that it's Millie. I can't stop myself from crying and tears begin to run down my cheeks. Surprisingly, between Millie, Mallory, and I, Mallory's the calmest, despite the fact that she's just been reaped.

"Somebody volunteer," I whisper pleadingly through tears, "Please, somebody volunteer."

But I know my pleas are useless. _Nobody_ volunteers in District Eight. Absolutely nobody. Mallory walks at a dilatory pace, before slowly climbing up the steps and standing next to Valencia.

"Why are you crying!" my dad snaps at me, seeing my face, "You should be happy for her! She has a chance to bring honor to our district!" I can't even believe what I'm hearing, but before I can respond he turns back to watch the ceremony.

"And the male, tribute," Valencia stutters.

She grabs a piece of paper and unfolds it, "Sean Linton!"

A boy of small stature from the thirteen-year-old section slowly makes his way onto the stage. He's clearly overcome with fear and a few tears roll down his cheeks. Mallory's doing a good job at showing no emotion; I can't even read her expression.

"Congratulations to, Mallory Shoals and, Sean Linton!"

The audience reluctantly applauds but I can't even force myself to bring myself to lift my hands. _This can't be happening. Mallory got reaped. She actually got reaped._

The crowd begins to disperse and my dad had already left. Liam rushes over to me and hugs me. "I'm so, so sorry…" he says. I can hear the sadness in his voice, he's affected too. I can see Dillon nearby looking at me sadly, but Crocket leads him away to assist with the clean-up.

I still haven't moved an inch.

"We should go, so you can say your goodbyes," Liam says. He's not going to lie to me and tell me that I'll see her again. Because he knows just as well as I do that I never will. "Okay," I manage to say.

I sit in the government building, crying, with Millie resting her head on my shoulder, crying even harder than I am.

Both of Mallory's parents wanted to come but can't. They do everything they can to get by and were forced to go back to work after the reaping. They'd have to work more now that they wouldn't have Mallory to help carry the load.

Liam was forced by Crocket to help take apart the giant stage set up for the reaping, so it was just Millie and I waiting to visit Mallory. Barbra might've visited too, she likes Mallory a lot, but my dad is making her oversee the clean-up. Alistair is in charge of overseeing the visits.

"One of you may go in now," he says monotonously, and before I can speak or even move, Millie is off of the bench and running inside the room. I catch a brief glimpse of Mallory as Millie runs inside but Alistair slams the door closed behind her. I glare at him angrily but he acts like he doesn't notice.

After five minutes, Alistair steps into the room and pulls a shrieking Millie out of it.

"Let go of me!" she wails, "Mallory!"

I watch in horror as Alistair forcibly separates Millie from her sister. _This isn't right._

Alistair holds a screaming Millie in one hand, and the knob of the door in the other.

"You may go in now," he says to me. He opens the door and steps aside, still clutching a thrashing Millie.

As soon as I step inside the room, Alistair slams the door behind me, but I can still hear Millie's shouts from the other side of the door.

Mallory and I lock eyes but for a few seconds, neither of us can think of anything to say.

"Please watch over Millie for me," Mallory asks, a tear rolling down her cheek.

I can already feel myself beginning to cry and I run up and embrace Mallory in a tight hug. Now we're both crying, as we cling tightly to each other, not wanting to ever let go.

"Plea-Please try to win…" I say through my tears. I can feel Mallory nod on my shoulder. "I'll do my best," she says.

She suddenly lets go of me and steps back, but the tears keep rolling down her cheeks. "I'm going to stay strong," she proclaims, "I'm going to do everything in power to win. I'm going to learn, and I'm going to—"

The door bursts open and Alistair comes into get me. I rush up to Mallory and hug her one last time as Alistair tugs at my shoulders. "Mallory, you're the best friend I could've ever asked for," I stutter quickly as Alistair continues to pull at me, "I'll miss you and I promise I'll never forget you!"

As I say the last part, Alistair literally rips Mallory and I apart. I get one last glimpse of her face before it disappears behind the door. Alistair locks it and looks at Millie and I, both of sitting on the floor, sobbing.

"Visiting time is over."

I force myself to stand up and walk over to Millie. "Come on," I say, grabbing her under the arms and pulling her to her feet, "Let's go." I'm trying to stay strong for the both of us; Mallory would want me to get Millie through this.

"I don't want to leave without Mallory," Millie insists through tears. "I know," I say in as calm a voice as I can muster, "I don't want to leave without her either. But we have to."

Millie nods her head slowly and I slowly lead her out of the building. She leans into my side as we walk and wraps her arms around my body for comfort, her tears staining my shirt. I walk her all the way back to her house, and I try my best to keep myself from crying for her sake, she needs someone to comfort her, not someone to cry with.

We reach her house just as Mallory's mom gets back from work. She glances down at Millie and then up at me before nodding her head. It's clear that she's been crying but that she's now also trying to be strong for Millie's sake. Millie goes from clinging me to clinging to her mother and they both go into Millie's room.

I cry the rest of the way home, releasing all of the tears I had held in when I was with Millie.

When I get back to my house, my dad walks up to me beaming. "Guess what just arrived from the Capitol!" he shouts, waving the letter in his hand at me. The last thing on my mind right now is the job at the Capitol, but I slowly open the letter anyway.

"Congratulations!" the letter reads. "You get to take on the honor of holding a government position for…" I skip to part that matters. "You have been assigned to the position of…" my heart drops at the next word.

"Gamemaker."

**A/N: I have two friends who have a relationship similar to Andrea and Liam's. They act like a couple a lot of the time, and a lot of people who don't know them that well think they would be a good couple…but they'll never be a couple. So that relationship is partially based on them.**

**Please review! :)**


	4. Arrival

**A/N: This was mostly written during my wait in the airport. This chapter is rather descriptive and serves more as a set-up for later chapters. Hopefully it's not too boring.**

**Thanks to Zoey-DeThug for reviewing!**

I want to refuse the position as soon as I read what it is but my dad won't let me. "You're not throwing away your future!" he yells at me.

He packs my luggage for me, and physically places me on a train to the Capitol. I leave the morning after Mallory. My sadness keeps me from enjoying the luxuriousness of the train, although the strangeness of some of the items does manage to occasionally distract me.

The driver of the train is a man named Julian. He'll occasionally say things like "Good morning," or "Hello," to me, but we never really have any conversations. He seems nice enough, but he also appears extremely intent on driving the train. The few times I see him in the cockpit, he's staring at the controls intently as if one false move could send the entire train careening off of the tracks.

Like Valencia, Julian seems to like the color yellow. The cap he wears is white with yellow stripes, and his uniform is adorned with a large yellow badge.

It takes a day, but we finally pull into the Capitol. I've been to the Capitol a few times before, so the grandeur of the city no longer has a very large effect on me. Julian seems rather surprised at my reaction as we enter the city. Usually, when people from the districts see the Capitol their jaws hit the floor. But I'd already been to the Capitol several times, and the effect had worn off. Julian must not know who I am and the circumstances bringing me to the Capitol, because he seemed to expect more of a reaction out of me.

The letter from the Capitol gave me very detailed instructions on where to go when I got to the Capitol, and I pulled the letter out as soon as I stepped off of the train. Julian waved goodbye to me as the train left the station. Julian had explained to me earlier that my luggage had been taken with the train that had carried Mallory, and was already waiting for me at the Capitol.

The instructions on my letter read:

"1. At the train station, there should be a road at the far left terminal. Go to the road.

2. Follow the road for approximately .3 miles until you reach a building marked by a sign reading 'Administrative Department' on your left. Enter the building.

3. State your business and present this letter to the Avox at the desk, and she'll direct you downstairs to the government transportation tunnels.

4. The Avox should direct you into a vehicle that will take you to the main Capitol building. Use a directory to find Gamemaker Allsworth's office.

5. Gm. Allsworth will have further instructions.

If the Avox serving you misleads you, gives you false information, or is rude or unkind, please report to Gm. Allsworth and the issue will be solved swiftly and permanently."

I follow the instructions and walk down the road until I reach the Administrative Department building. A short woman adorned completely in red looks up at me from her desk. She has dark red lipstick, the color of blood, and her hair is bleach-blonde with a dark red highlight. She doesn't talk; she just looks at me and waits.

I slowly walk forward to her and give my letter to her. I've never actually seen an Avox before, I'd only heard about them, and for some reason I was slightly apprehensive when faced with one. My dad had told me that they were criminals, and I was nervous at the idea of trusting myself with her.

She read the letter carefully, glancing up at me briefly before continuing to read. When she finishes, she picks the letter and hands it back to me before walking out from behind her desk and opening a door in the back of the room. She gestures for me to go through the door and I reluctantly agree.

On the other side of the door is a staircase that leads downward. I look at the Avox questioningly and she nods her head, affirming that she wants me to go down.

I begin to descend the steps and she follows, the both of us eventually reaching the bottom, where three vehicles are set on three different tracks. The Avox gestures for me to allow her to look at the letter again, and I hand it over to her. She reads the instructions again and gestures for me to step in the middle car.

The car is just a chair with a seatbelt and windshield. There are no controls on the inside whatsoever. As I buckle myself in, the Avox gives me my letter and startles me when she abruptly closes the door to the vehicle. At first I think she's trapped me and that she intends to harm me, but she hits a switch and the lights on the track in front of me light up, revealing a long tunnel.

A purple button flashes on a panel outside and the Avox presses it. Suddenly, I find my car flying down the tracks. In a matter of seconds, the car begins to slow and stops in a much busier terminal. The door to my car opens and I grab my letter before stepping out.

The terminal is bustling with people stepping into various cars and zooming off to who-knows-where. I follow a large crowd of people who had just disembarked up an escalator and discover that I am in the central government building. Quickly scanning the main lobby, I spot a directory and quickly make my way to it. I find Allsworth's office and attempt to go down the hallway that would lead me there, but I'm stopped by a Peacekeeper. However, once I state my business and show him my letter, he lets me through.

I make my way to Allsworth's office and take a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door.

After a few seconds, the door opens and a bulky man appears in front of me, who I assume is Allsworth. Allsworth has rough features and looks like he had fought in and won all of the previous Hunger Games. He's ripped, has short black hair, and is very hairy. But surprisingly, his voice is mellow and sweet, "May I help you?"

"My name is Andrea Paylor," I state, trying to sound as professional as possible (good first impressions never hurt), "I've been assigned to the position of Gamemaker and was instructed to report to your office."

He chuckles at my demeanor before slapping me on the back, "Lighten up, kid! No need to sound so uptight!"

I relax a little and he pulls me into his office. "We're actually not doing very much today," says Allsworth, taking a seat behind his desk. "Sit," he says to me, and I oblige, "The head Gamemaker this year is currently away on business. There have been some technical difficulties with the terraforming features in this year's arena and he's overseeing the repairs. He won't be back until tomorrow, so there's not much for you to do today."

Allsworth grabs a piece of paper from inside a file cabinet and hands it to me. "That paper has instructions on how to get to your room, your luggage is already there," he says, "We'll be getting to work tomorrow, but today you can just enjoy the Capitol. Gamemakers usually eat dinner in Mess Hall C so when you're hungry you can go down and get something. You can meet some of the other Gamemakers too while you're down there. If you have trouble finding your way around, just ask someone.

"You're to meet me in my office tomorrow morning at 9:15. Since this is your first year as a Gamemaker, you'll be working more as my personal assistant. Tomorrow, I'll teach you how to operate most of the technology and then all the Gamemakers will meet later in the day when everybody returns from the arena. Understood?"

"Yes sir," I say. "Don't call me sir," Allsworth demands. "Okay…" I begin. "Lane," he finishes, "Call me Lane."

Unfortunately, the hallway that leads to my room cuts across the section of the building where the tributes stay. The hallway contains the elevators that the tributes take to meet with their stylists. Standing in the hallway, I see two freshly groomed tributes appear from behind a door and walk to the elevators. As they step in and the door closes, I take a few deep breaths.

The last thing I want right now is for Mallory to see me. I could just wait until she passes by, but the Peacekeepers hate it when people loiter; it raises suspicion.

_Just sprint across before anyone can recognize you_, I tell myself. No one's in the hallway, and I can't hear anyone approaching. Taking one last deep breath, I sprint across the hall as fast as I can until I'm on the other side.

_That wasn't so bad_, I think as I catch my breath, _why was I even stressing over that?_

My room is only about as big as my room back in District Eight. One of the walls to my room is a giant just one giant window, while the wall to the right of the door has a large flat screen television propped on it, with a dresser underneath. Pulling open one of the drawers, I see that my luggage has already been unpacked for me.

A large bed with purple sheets and blankets faces the television, and a nightstand with a tube connected to it sits next to the headboard of the bed. The tube runs down through the center of the nightstand and into the floor, and I'm startled when something abruptly comes out of the tube.

A tape and a letter now sit on the top of my nightstand, a result of the tube. I pick up the letter and see that it was sent from Allsworth.

It reads: "Andrea, please review the reaping footage from each of the districts by the end of the day."

Not feeling hungry, I decide to skip dinner down in the mess hall and resolve to just finish my work before going to bed. I put the tape into the player on the dresser and turn on the TV. It begins to play the reaping ceremonies from all the districts, beginning with District One.

All of the tributes from District One and District Two were volunteers. The Careers from District Two looked particularly scary. The girl's name is Frost, and she has pale skin and hair that is practically white. Her eyes are a light blue and she seems to never blink. The boy's name is Flame, and he has spiky, dark red hair. The appearance of his hair is described perfectly by his name. He is one of the most in shape people I've ever seen, and would probably put most Peacekeepers to shame. The only person I've seen in better physical condition is Allsworth, and it's close.

Neither of the two District Three tributes are volunteers. The female tribute is a small fourteen year old named Kaila, and the male tribute is a fifteen year old named Dennis.

The female tribute from District Four is a volunteer, but the male tribute is reaped. The female's name is Opal and the male's name is Landon. Although Landon was reaped, judging by the size of him and the smile he gives when he shakes hands with Opal, I know he'll be a Career.

The tributes from District Five are both twelve year olds, and I know that they'll probably die either in the bloodbath or before the first day ends, so I pay little attention to them.

As I watch the reaping's I keep tabs on who the biggest threats to Mallory are, and I even begin to think about people she might want to form an alliance with.

The boy from District Six is certainly a good candidate. His name is Josh and he seems like a fairly decent guy. His younger sister screamed nearly as loud as Millie when he got reaped but he remained strong just like Mallory did.

Speaking of Mallory, once I watch the District Seven reaping, I skip over the District Eight footage. I don't need to relive that.

The tributes from District Seven and District Nine don't provide anything special. The female tribute from District Ten takes me by surprise because when her name is announced, I can't find her in the crowd, and the camera doesn't seem to be able to either. She appears out of nowhere and I make a mental note of her incredible stealth.

The tributes from District Eleven and District Twelve are the usual types of tributes provided by the outlying districts: kids who probably won't survive past the first day.

As I finish watching the tape and prepare to go to bed, I hope and pray that Mallory won't be one of the ones who doesn't last past the first day.

**A/N: This is chapter isn't as well put together as I wanted it to be. I wanted to introduce some more plot points but I also wanted to hurry up and finish it. Things will get moving a bit more in the next chapter, however.**

**Please review!**


	5. Mess Hall C

**A/N: Sorry for the later update. I went from Munich to Dresden, and things are slowing down a little bit, so hopefully I'll have more time to write.**

**Thanks to for reviewing!**

**Unfortunately, like the last chapter, this is a lot of exposition.**

The beginning of the first day is rather uneventful. Allsworth shows me how to use the terraforming equipment that we'll be during the Games, as well as a bunch of the mutation and biological experiment equipment. Allsworth tells me that the Head Gamemaker loves mutations and biological experiments and that he's been working on a special spore for several years. I don't pay much attention when Allsworth tells me how to operate it; I'll probably never need too.

In fact, most of the machinery that Allsworth shows me is machinery that I'll most likely have never use, so I pay less attention.

"It's lunchtime!" Allsworth says excitedly after three hours of teaching. By this point, I'm completely drained and bored out of my mind. "Unfortunately, I have to work, but you can just head over to Mess Hall C and I guarantee you'll have some of the best food ever!"

Before I can even protest the idea of going to lunch by myself, he leaves. _Great, I don't know any of the other Gamemakers_. I'm not exactly shy, but meeting new people is always a weird experience, especially when everybody else knows each other.

I slowly make my way to Mess Hall C but wait a few seconds before entering. _Don't be nervous. They may be experienced Gamemakers, but they're still people too. Just don't act awkward and things won't be awkward._ I give myself a pep talk before pushing the doors open.

The sight on the other side of the door surprises me. _There are only two of them!_

Yep, there are only two of them, and they're not even sitting at the same table.

On the right side of the hall is a man with black hair that's slicked back rather fashionably. He's in good shape, and is wearing a suit that would be considered extremely professional and classy in the Capitol (although to me it looks like someone let a child pick the color scheme for his outfit). The shirt is a bright blue and the tie he wears is a shimmering shade of purple. His suit jacket and pants are an even darker shade of purple. However, the buttons on his jacket are yellow and his watch is red. His face is freshly shaven, completely devoid of facial hair.

On the left side of the hall is a woman with dark black hair and a fair complexion. Her hair is perfectly straight, not a wave or curl to be found, and falls down to her mid-back. However, at the sides, her hair only reaches her shoulders, creating a U-shape when looked at from the back. She wears dark purple lipstick and pink eyeliner. She has a serious demeanor and is wearing a flowing indigo dress and a purple belt.

_Geez, people seem to enjoy the color purple_. I think as I walk past both of them to where food is being served. I'm presented with a wide array of meats, breads, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, and desserts but I don't take too much. Now I only face the dilemma on where to sit.

The woman notices me and her serious demeanor is replaced with a smile. "You must be the district girl!" she shouts across the hall. The man looks up, slightly irritated by the shrillness of her voice, but she doesn't notice. "Come! Sit over here!" she yells.

She's kind of scaring me, but I sit down across from her anyway. She wipes her hand with her napkin before extending her arm out to me. "Allow me to introduce myself! My name is Matilda; Matilda Opiara," she annunciates, popping the "p" in her last name for no discernible reason. I take her hand. _Damn, her grip is tight._ "I'm Andrea Paylor."

"What a lovely name!" she says. "Andrea Paylor," she repeats, pondering the name over. "Yep! I like it."

"Don't let her freak you out too much," interrupts the man on the other side of the hall.

"Don't be silly, Plutarch!" Matilda cackles, finding his insult hilarious for no apparent reason, "I'm just getting to know her! There _are_ only six of us this year. Might as well get to know everybody!"

"They're only six of us?" I ask. There has to be more than that. "Nope!" Matilda exclaims, "You'd be surprised how many people turn down this sort of job. Two weeks ago there were only four of us: Plutarch, Nero, me, and _Allsworth_." She rolls her eyes when she says Allsworth's name. It's clear that she doesn't like him.

"You have no idea how happy Nero was when he got your application. You said you were open to taking any Capitol position, and this is the one we needed. He also picked up another girl from the Capitol named Clomara last week," Matilda continued, "But she's pretty stupid. She's only here because we needed more personnel and those two are having an affair."

Matilda says the last part like it's common knowledge, but Plutarch and I both look at her awkwardly. "What? It's true!" she shouts. "Nero and Clomara." She repeats at our silence, "You're new, Andrea, so it's okay. But Plutarch, you didn't know?" She scoffs and returns to her food. Plutarch stares at her like she's crazy (she kind of is) before returning to his food as well.

"I like you," she speaks abruptly, turning her head from her food to look at me, "I really shouldn't like you that much since you're from a district and everything. But does that really matter? Most people from the districts are ungrateful mutts who whine about everything, but you seem nice and wholesome." I'm rather taken aback by her comment, but it was kind of a compliment, so I don't interrupt her.

"That's one of the reasons why I love being a Gamemaker. Those district idiots deserve it," she continues. "Sorry," she whispers rather unapologetically when she remembers that I myself am from District Eight. "But you're not really a district person," she says, "You're the daughter of the mayor of District Eight. The mayor's basically a Capitol person, so that makes you one too!"

Her food is gone, and one of the Avoxes standing in the corner approaches to take her dish. She's really pretty. Her hair is a shimmering golden color and the dull red of her outfit actually looks good on her.

But when she reaches for Matilda's plate, Matilda abruptly hits her hand with a spoon. "What the hell do you think you're doing Viola!" she shouts at her. Viola immediately cowers back, knowing that it's never good when a high-ranking Capitol citizen gets mad at an Avox. "My silverware was not in the proper position to indicate I was done! What, are you just _assuming_ that I should be done with my food! Are you insinuating something about my weight!"

Viola's eyes are watery and my expression is nothing short of shocked at Matilda's violent outburst. It is clear the Matilda is done eating. Her food is almost completely gone and her napkin is tossed carelessly on top of all of it. However, her silverware does still remain sitting next to her plate, and the signal that someone is done is to leave the silverware sitting across the top of the plate.

Matilda glances over at me and sees my face. Her own expression relaxes a bit. "You're lucky that my new friend Andrea has me in a good mood, otherwise your situation might be a lot worse!" Matilda fumes. She hastily places her silverware atop her plate and leaves the hall in a fit. Viola quickly scoops up the plate and exits into the back, hurrying so that we don't have to see her cry.

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?" says Plutarch, who magically appears next to me at the table. "We haven't really formally met. I'm Andrea," I say as I hold out my hand. He shakes it, his grip much more relaxing than Matilda's. "Plutarch Heavensbee," he says.

"Are you and Matilda friends?" I ask. His face contorts, as if he's trying to figure out how to word his response. "Sort of," he says, "She thinks we're friends, but she annoys the hell out of me most of the time. She _hates_ Allsworth though."

"Why?" I ask.

"I have no clue. He doesn't know either. It's probably from something she heard from someone else. She's a huge gossip. Make sure she doesn't get any dirt on you or it will spread through the Capitol like wildfire."

"I'll keep that in mind," I say, "Who's Nero?"

"Oh! That's right, you haven't met him," replies Plutarch, "He's the Head Gamemaker."

"Okay," I say, digesting the information.

"He's not very nice. I sometimes don't know why I put up with him," Plutarch adds.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's just…He's pretty vicious. His attitude is always really bad and he seems to enjoy his job a little too much. Knowing that he's sleeping with Clomara certainly doesn't help my opinion of him."

"Who's Clomara?"

"As Matilda mentioned, she's a Gamemaker now. And as Matilda also mentioned, she's an idiot. Actually, hearing that she sleeps with Nero sort of explains how she got this job. It certainly wasn't her brains that landed her this gig!" Plutarch says, taking a bite out of the food on his plate, "You'll meet her and Nero tomorrow, and you'll see what I mean. He's just a bad person, and she's just a dumb bimbo."

Plutarch puts his silverware across the top of his plate and Viola returns to take it. "I'm sorry about what Matilda said," he tells her. She nods meekly in response. "Just be careful," Plutarch says, "Matilda shouldn't have snapped like that, but you need to make sure you don't mess up especially when you're around people like her." Viola nods, wiping away another tear before clearing his plate.

"She's a nice girl," sighs Plutarch, "It's a shame what happened to her."

"What happened to her?" I ask, curious, "I know she's an Avox, but what did she do?"

Plutarch sighs again before standing, "That's probably a story best saved for another day. If you can find her sister and ask her, she might tell you."

He walks to the door. "Who's her sister!" I shout after him. "You probably don't know her," says Plutarch, opening the door, "Her name's Valencia."

He disappears behind the door and I'm left to finish my meal. After a few more minutes of eating, I place my silverware across the top of my plate and wait for Viola. She quickly comes and takes my plate, but our eyes lock for a brief moment. I feel bad for her, even though I know I probably shouldn't.

Avoxes typically deserve every bit of their punishment, according to my father. But regardless, I felt horrible for her when Matilda screamed at her, over such a simple mistake too.

"Is your last name O'Mara?" I ask before she departs. She nods her head lightly before hurrying into another room to dispose of my food. _So it's the same Valencia I'm thinking of._ _I never would've guessed…_

The opening ceremonies were that evening but attendance was optional to Gamemakers. Usually, the ceremonies were mandatory for all Capitol government officials, but since Nero wasn't here, the Gamemakers didn't have to go. Even if I did decide to go, I would have to re-watch the whole thing with Nero and the others when he returned.

Allsworth described the plans for tomorrow while he finished showing me where everything is and how everything works. When Nero got back, we would discuss the reaping videos and watch the opening ceremonies before discussing each of the tributes. Training for the tributes would also begin tomorrow and we'd be allowed to watch their progress from behind tinted glass windows.

"It's not that late yet," says Allsworth when he finishes showing me around, "But you have to get up early tomorrow. We don't have a set time, but an Avox will come to wake you when Nero gets back and we'll begin to work. Sound good?"

I nod before heading off the bed for the night. I'm a lot more tired than I thought, because I fall asleep almost immediately.

**A/N: Hope you guys liked it! As always, please review!**


	6. All Six Of Us

**A/N: Sorry for being so late with this. But I'm going to update all of my stories in the next two days and try to be timelier in the future. Thanks to InSaNeAnNiE for reviewing! And if Paylor's first name is Lyme, then that's unfortunate. I looked on the Hunger Games Wiki for it but couldn't find it so I just came up with Andrea (which is several steps up from Lyme anyway).**

"Welcome fellow Gamemakers!" booms Nero Charlemagne as he enters the Control Room, the room in which we'll monitor the Games and insert various obstacles. He's thirty minutes late, but I along with Plutarch do our best to appear as though we're not annoyed by his tardiness.

Allsworth and Matilda on the other hand, aren't doing a great job at hiding their disapproval. Allsworth has his head lazily propped up with his arm and looks up groggily when Nero finally enters. Matilda has both her arms and legs crossed and taps the table with her long acrylic nails in frustration.

"Well finally you're here!" exclaims Matilda. "Yeah, about time," agrees Allsworth almost inaudibly, slowly lifting his head and sitting up in his chair. Nero simply ignores them and looks at Plutarch and me happily. "Thank you both for being punctual, polite, and respectful," he says to us, though it's more of a dig at Allsworth and Matilda then a compliment to us.

Nero's rather dashing and commands the space he's in. His disposition practically orders you to respect him. He's wearing a full tuxedo with a purple handkerchief and bowtie. He's about to say more when a woman runs up behind him and playfully taps him on the shoulder before taking a seat next to Allsworth.

"Hey," she coos, flirtatiously waving at Nero. Nero is about to address her when she abruptly turns sharply in her seat so she's facing me. "Oooh! You're new!" she exclaims. She gracefully extends her hand, which is covered with a white glove that extends to her elbow. "I'm Clomara, the charming one."

"Bat shit crazy is more like it," I hear Plutarch mumble next to me, but it's soft and so inaudible that I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in the room who catches it.

Clomara has pink hair that's curled tightly and bounces behind her head whenever she so much as blinks. Her hair is almost always bouncing. Her face is powdered so heavily that she's as white as a ghost and she's wearing a bold green and yellow dress, complete with puffs, ruffles, and all sorts of other things that give the dress plenty of volume. The dress is held tightly to her waist, however, by a large pink belt with a silver belt buckle in the shape of a circle. She wears earrings that have three different hoops on them, one yellow, one green, and one pink. Her lips are voluminous and coated heavily with pink lipstick. To top all that off, she also wears purple heels that are unnecessarily loud.

"Andrea Paylor," I introduce myself as I shake her hand lightly, her hair bouncing slightly even at the small motion of her arm.

"The District girl!" she practically shouts. "So tell me," she leans in, "Do you have hair curlers out in the place where you live?"

"Alright! Now that we're all introduced…" Nero says, cutting Clomara off and sending her a glare that tells her to keep her mouth shut, "Let's get down to business! The arena design for this year's Hunger Games is simple: pine forest! Andrea, you only just arrived so you're probably a bit behind on the arena plans, but I'll make sure Plutarch sends you the design."

Plutarch nods in response, making a mental note to send me the design later.

"Clomara, would you get the projection player going so we can start dissecting this year's crop of players?" Nero asks. His choice of words bothers me a little. Clomara takes a remote from the main circular control panel that dominates the room and presses a few of the buttons but nothing happens. She stares at the remote intently before pressing a few more buttons, but still nothing happens. Nero walks around the panel and past Allsworth to assist her.

"In case you haven't already gathered, she's not exactly smart," Plutarch whispers to me, "I'm not even sure if you could rule her out as mentally disabled." Nero takes the remote and within a few seconds he has the projection player up and running above the control panel. "Thanks, Charlie" coos Clomara. Nero nearly blushes at the use of a nickname he would probably be embarrassed by. "I told you not to call me that in public," Nero chastises Clomara quietly. "Sorry," she sulks.

We view the Opening Ceremonies from the previous night and discuss each district as their tributes are wheeled out, pausing occasionally. I'm quiet for most of the time, as is Plutarch, but everybody else is chatty, making strange judgments about each of the tributes based solely on appearance.

"She looks like such a prude," comments Clomara, referring to the girl from District Four, Maggie. "I mean, do you see her unfortunate choice of accessories! I hope the other Careers don't get saddled with her. I can think of a few ways we can prevent that however." _How can you already plan to interfere with Maggie's chances based solely on her appearance, something that she can't even control!_

"Not nearly enough muscle on him," chides Nero as the District Five tributes roll out, "He won't last more than a minute in the arena. He'll get a four during the evaluations." _How can you pre-determine what score he's going to get when you haven't even seen him fight yet!_

"I talked to a friend of the brother of District Six's mayor once," Matilda says as the tributes from District Six are presented, "And she says that the kids there are some of the most snobbish brats on this Earth. I can't see how we can give either of them anything higher than a six." Clomara nods in agreement, "You're right, and do you see the smug look on the boy's face?" The boy is frowning sadly. "Plus that girl wouldn't know the first thing about fashion if it hit her over the head and force-fed her diamond earrings!" _The girl looks fine in my opinion._

I begin to lose my patience but Plutarch places a reassuring arm on my shoulder. He seems to realize how frustrated I'm becoming. I take a deep breath to calm myself and slouch a bit in my seat.

"Let's be a bit more reasonable guys," says Allsworth as Clomara begins to superficially judge the District Seven tributes, "I say we wait to see these kids fight before we decide what scores we give them." Matilda seems to concede a bit but Clomara just glares at him.

"Whatever," Clomara dismisses, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and what a piece of work she is!" Clomara declares loudly. I turn to look at the projection again to see that we're on District Eight now, and she's talking about Mallory. "Who has wavy hair anymore?" she asks, "And truthishly, she looks rather burly." My blood begins to boil a little. "I guess it doesn't completely matter what _she _looks like, though. And I bet she knows it. She's just going to die in the bloodbath; do we even have to bother evaluating her?"

Nero chuckles a little, as does Clomara. I can't hold my tongue anymore. "And _truthishly_, you're a shallow, judgmental bitch."

Clomara gapes back at me incredulously. Allsworth's slightly bored expression begins to change to a grin, and Matilda laughs lightly. Nero looks a little stunned at my outburst and Plutarch just doesn't react. "Excuse me?" Clomara asks. I cross my arms, I meant what I said. "Take it back," she hisses.

"No," I say defiantly, "You're an annoying chatterbox who's drawing assumptions about these people based on characteristics completely unrelated to what you're judging them on. None of these tributes have a single say in what they wear, Clomara! You couldn't even figure out the remote earlier. Geez, Matilda's a chatty gossip too, but at least she isn't a complete idiot!"

Clomara tries to formulate a response, but it probably requires too much brainpower. So instead, she stands up and storms out. Allsworth grin is a wide smile now, and he discreetly gives me a thumbs-up. "I'm not that chatty," Matilda says. "You are a gossip, though," Allsworth replies. Matilda shrugs, "Guilty."

"We do have a job to do here," Nero announces coolly, glaring at me. He probably didn't like my outburst very much. Nero, Allsworth, Matilda, and I turn our attention back to the projection, where District Eleven's tributes are being ridden out on their chariot. Plutarch continues to take notes; he wasn't distracted at all by my brief altercation with Clomara.

I don't make any more comments for the rest of the session. Allsworth and Plutarch are silent too, with only Matilda and Nero talking. There comments are rather toned down compared to the earlier ones.

When the projection ends, Nero dismisses us to go get lunch while goes to find Clomara.

"I know _exactly_ what Nero's going to give her to make her feel better," snips Matilda as she sits down next to me in the Mess Hall, with Plutarch and Allsworth sitting across from me. Remembering what Matilda told me yesterday about Clomara and Nero makes me shudder a little.

"Nero was in a good mood today," says Plutarch. "Yeah, he was," agrees Allsworth, "He began to go back to normal though after someone snapped at his mistress." I didn't miss the glance and smile he flashed at me. "You really enjoyed that didn't you?" I ask Allsworth.

"It was one of the funniest things I've seen in days!" exclaims Matilda, answering the question meant for Allsworth, "Oh, and the look on her face!"

"I feel kind of bad," I say, poking at my food. "Don't," says Matilda, "Bitch needed the wake-up call. I just didn't think you'd be the one to do it! I thought it'd be me. She couldn't even get the projector to work! I bet that if I looked into her ear I could see straight out the other side!"

"It wasn't so much that she was being stupid, what bothered me was that she was superficially judging everyone." I say.

"Oh, who cares?" says Matilda, "They're all just tools for our entertainment anyway."

"And that makes you no better than Clomara," I say as I hand my tray to Viola, who graciously takes it away. "What are you getting so stuffy over?" asks Matilda, "That's all they are. Seeing them as anything more makes this job a bit more difficult. It's supposed to be fun." Matilda gets up and leaves after that comment.

"She's a bit disillusioned," comments Plutarch. "Nero's evil, Clomara's stupid and shallow, and Matilda is completely disillusioned in the Capitol idea."

I stare at Plutarch quizzically. Was he, a Gamemaker, underhandedly questioning the correctness of the Capitol? Allsworth's lack of a reaction makes me believe that they're both on the same page with this. The idea of Plutarch questioning the Capitol at first feels wrong to me, but then I realize that I essentially agree with him. Matilda's completely wrong to think that the tributes are just for our own entertainment. But then what does that make them? And is the answer morally justifiable?

Then I remember what my dad would usually tell me. These tributes serve as a reminder for the crimes committed against the Capitol over fifty years ago by the districts. My dad's words should've reassured me. But somehow the idea still felt wrong. Maybe it was seeing how the actual Capitol citizens viewed. It's just entertainment to them, or to Matilda at least. Seeing 23 kids die is just their idea of good sport. But not to Plutarch or Allsworth. But then why are they even Gamemakers?

I don't question them. Instead, finished with my lunch, I leave the Mess Hall to prepare for the afternoon and a possible confrontation with Clomara should she decide to reappear.

**A/N: Again, sorry for the late update, but I hope this chapter was good! What do you think of the other Gamemakers: Nero, Clomara, Matilda, and Allsworth? And keep in mind as I write Plutarch's character that this is over a decade before Catching Fire. I'm writing him in a way that hopefully reflects a younger version of him. I'll try to update this again soon. Please review!**


	7. Avox

**A/N: Thanks to InSaNeAnNiE for reviewing!**

Fortunately, Clomara just pouted for the rest of the day. Very little happened. Nero recruited Plutarch's help in terraforming parts of the arena and Clomara and Allsworth helped set up the evaluation room. Matilda and I, with nothing to do for the day, decided to watch the tributes in their first day of training.

It was Matilda's idea, but I really wanted to see how Mallory was doing.

The Gamemakers and representatives get a booth above the training room where we could view the tributes without being disturbed. The mentors, for some reason, aren't allowed to view the training. The booth was covered with a red tinted glass so that the tributes weren't aware of our presence. The trainers thought that if the tributes saw us it would be a distraction. This was also good for me because it means Mallory can't see me.

But as of now, the only people observing the tributes are Matilda and I. An Avox comes in and gives us some water to drink, but Matilda demands that she be brought a cocktail. And of course, the mere presence of an Avox sends Matilda spiraling into a rant about them.

Matilda is just as judgmental as Clomara, the only difference is that Matilda is a little bit smarter and doesn't judge people on superficial things like looks.

The Avox brings Matilda her cocktail, but Matilda claims that the Avox made it wrong and gets up so that she can go to the kitchen and make it herself.

While Matilda is absent, I make sure to observe Mallory closely. She is sticking mostly to the survival stations, and is doing a great job at identifying berries (Mallory always had a great memory). She does pretty well at building a fire and making traps, but does a pitiful job at fishing.

I turn my attention briefly to the Careers. The tributes from District Two, Flame and Frost, have already decimated the spear targets. So instead, they take to throwing spears at the targets over at the archery station, on the other side of the room. They're precision and power is frightening me, and I'm all the way up in box. Several of the other tributes are also clearly unnerved, but Mallory seems to be doing a good job at ignoring them.

A one-sided conversation from behind me distracted me, however.

"Viola, the trial's in a few days," I hear someone weep silently. Peeking over my shoulder, I see that just outside of my box, Valencia and Viola are talking. Valencia's actually the only one talking (because she's the only one who can).

Viola rests a comforting hand on Valencia's shoulder as Valencia silently sobs. They both don't notice me. I turn back around though, because I don't want to be caught eavesdropping. But even with my back turned, I can still hear most of their conversation.

"I don't want to end up like…There's not much I can do…Maybe if I'm lucky…I like this job, too…From yellow to red…Yeah, I know…"

I 'm quite getting the gist of what they are saying and their conversation is interrupted by Matilda, who rudely pushes her way in between them on her back into the box with her cocktail. I look back and see that Viola is returning to work, while Valencia wears a sad expression.

"Would you look at those tributes from District Two!" Matilda exclaims loudly.


End file.
